Three Sides to a Coin
by BarometricSalmon
Summary: Ranma, man amoungst men, and martial artist supreme of the Nerima Ward finds himself throwing his life to the winds. Camped out on the shore of the Yellow Sea in China the sometimes-boy-frequently-girl is no longer sure what he wants from life but knows he wants change. When you live a life where Anything Goes though, that can be quite the tall order. AU
1. Chapter 1

_Author Note: Disclaimer, no contents of Ranma ½ or Sailor Moon have been thought up or invented by me. This is purely a work of fan fiction and is not meant for promotional or finical endeavors. This is meant to be made in respect and admiration for series' of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi and all the contents of Ranma ½ and Sailor Moon belong, respectively, to them._

_Please respect the fans, and fandom of the series by remaining polite and open minded while reading._

* * *

Gentle silver moonlight danced and played as it sparkled through the crests of each wave of water that lapped against the coast. China's Yellow Sea was calm this night. Its waters only made half hazard attempts to crush the mountainous land standing in its way – after all both parties involved had all the time in the world to play their game of soil and sand.

Watching the timeless battle play out below him was the currently short and girlish figure of Saotome Ranma, man amoung men. The young martial artist had made her camp on a low lying cliff and her tent and gear was shielded from the coastal breeze by a ring of short, dark green shrubs. The red-haired-sometimes-black-haired teenager tried to pull a grin at the sheer tenacity nature could put into such simple plants, but as she reached a hand up to wipe more water from the back of her head her expression froze.

Forcing herself to move again Ranma's right hand continued dislodge droplets of water from her hair. Her hand glowed with a faint green sheen of ki as it combed through the roughly hacked, short mass of hair that ended sharply at the girl's neckline.

The boy-sometimes-girl was completely devoid of the trademark pigtail that had been with him on his entire adventurous life – whether he had been a boy or a girl.

Pulling her hand away from her head and shaking the final vestiges of moisture from her hair the martial artist pulled a large circular iron pot – already filled half way full with water – from out of her weapon space and hooked its handle to the tripod she had set up above the small fire pit.

Ranma then picked up the two rocks she had pulled up during her last trip down to the shore and struck them together in a shower of sparks. A series of quick strikes followed with larger and larger gouts of shimmering light until the dried driftwood she had gathered caught ablaze.

The teenage frowned at the quantity of smoke that was puffing forth from her fire, but then shook her head sadly.

No one would be looking for her so she didn't need to hide – after all, she was already hiding.

The martial artist turned her back on the camp and looked out at the open ocean far off in the distance. She couldn't see it but she knew that even further off was the place she had strived so hard to call home.

Japan

Ranma turned back towards the camp as she felt a bitter laugh build in his stomach. The teen knew very well the direction to her homeland as, for the second time in her life, she had traveled to China on nothing more than the strength of her own two arms. There was a kind of symmetry there – after all Ranma could now say he had completed that trial once when male and now once as female.

Clamping down on the outburst that was fighting to escape her body Ranma momentarily let her mind fall into the Soul of Ice.

The redhead didn't want to hear any voices at the moment – no less one of her own.

Peering into the pot she had set to boil Ranma found herself once again toying with the back of her head. Her hand almost fearfully brushing against the short spikes as they clustered together almost in memory of the tail they had once formed the base to.

He had left everything behind.

Saotome Ranma, man amoungst men, had stood up one day without a word and walked out of Nerima and didn't stop until she had dragged her form out of the waters of the Yellow Sea and climbed up the cliffs to her current camp.

She had been sitting alone for less than an hour and already her mind had gone more places than it had in the last three days of repetitive, monotonous movement.

Guilt boiled inside the boy as he remember the last time he had been in Nerima. He had walked home from school – late from a fight that had ended up involved Ryoga and all three of the Kunos – and stepped into the Tendo household.

Kasumi had smiled and returned his tired greeting with a cheerful one of her own.

Nabiki had smirked and flashed pictures of him as a girl from the fight he had just finished – how she had gotten them while seemingly having been home all the time he would never know.

Akane...

Akane had sniffed and turned her back on him.

Ranma stretched back and let himself fall against the hard ground. The martial artist looked up at the stars floating in the night sky above him and let his thoughts rest as he concentrated on the _crack_ and _pop_ of the fire.

After Saffron and the wedding and... and even his confession Ranma had hoped for more. The youngest Tendo didn't yell 'pervert' at him every three minutes anymore and every time she had pulled out her mallet she would go in for a strike and stop it just before connecting.

Instead of her previous outbursts she had started to lapse into long periods of silence where no matter what form Ranma would show up in she would respond by denying his entire existence.

While ignorant in more fields than he could count the martial artist had seen enough of the world that he knew that silence – more than anything else – was a precursor to death.

So that day he had returned Akane's silence. The man amoung men had walked up the stairs to his room grabbed his pigtail with his right hand and severed it with his ki-laced left. He had almost stopped there as he stomach had rolled upon seeing the thick braid fall to the ground with a silence that had mirrored his and Akane's earlier exchange.

He remembered the pricking pain that had been in his eyes as a dread whelmed up in him and he had just wanted to fall to his knees and let himself for once feel his full spectrum of emotions without having to hold someone he thought was dying in his arms.

And then his eyes had slid over to his father's pile of belongings and the walls in his mind had straightened as if they had been a pile of mud suddenly injected with solid concrete. He has been rasied a man amoung men and did not cry – even if Genma had long since decided to view him as nothing more than 'boy' for as long as they both lived.

Stepping over the lump of hair splayed against the wooden floor Ranma had grabbed his bag and let it disappear into his weapon's space before smoothly sliding the widow open and hopping out. Unlike the tumultuous events that had started with his arrival in Nerima and continued on a daily basis for his entire stay it had been completely quiet when Saotome Ranma walked out.

Sitting up the redhead girl pulled her mind from out of her memories. She was here now and not there and while there wasn't any plan for what to do next in her mind...

Well, it was pretty simple, since anything goes.

Flipping to her feet Ranma did smile slightly as she saw that the water in her pot had finally started to boil. Pausing as she started to reach into her personal storage dimension for a ladle or cup or really anything the girl shrugged and thrust her hand into the roiling liquid directly.

With a hiss the girl pulled her arm back out and winced. Her heart started to beat and a low groan crawled out from her throat as she noticed she hadn't changed back.

Glaring at her red skinned arm the martial artist approached the pot again and widened her stance. She refused to believe that anything was wrong and if the first time didn't work – well, just like with the breaking point training you could always try again.

"I really wouldn't go in for a second dip – but of course you're not quite me now, are you?" Ranma paused with her arm poised right above the lip of the iron container as the voice rang out behind her. It was a voice that her mind knew shouldn't be possibly speaking to her.

You just simply couldn't speak to yourself without opening your mouth after all.

Turning on her heel the teenage martial artist kept her body lax, ready for any movement.

Movement which happened rather quickly as she took a step back at the sight of what had addressed her.

Sitting on a stump – one that had without a doubt not existed when she had set up camp – was nothing more than a silhouette of a person. The figure was an inky black that was marred by twisting pools of grey and slashes of white that bloomed and disappeared across its body.

The head was an eyeless, hairless oval with only one feature – that of a flat grey line that bloomed into a wide crescent as Ranma moved backwards.

"Why, hello!" The inky figure greeted Ranma with her own voice and then followed itself up with a quick 'tut, tut' as the girl tensed her muscles again. "I really wouldn't do that unless your planning on stepping _back forward_ – I'd really hate to see you burn yourself again."

The shade paused and then it lost the crescent... smile on its face. "Especially when that would make both times my fault."

Ranma glared, but could indeed feel the heat of the fire behind her brush against her body uncomfortably. Instead of moving the young martial artist allowed herself to fully embrace the Soul of Ice. The chill that suddenly radiated out from out of her body snuffed the fire into nothing and sucked enough heat out of the pot to make it _ring_ with stress.

"You." Ranma stated coldly and took a step forward.

"Me." The silhouette responded with a nod as it was suddenly leaning comfortable against her back.

The red haired teenage spun only to find herself looking at the shade standing casually on the other side of her now super-cooled fire pit and facing her.

"If ya' looked my curse I ain't going to lie an' say this will end well fer yah." The corner of Ranma's lip twitched and the girl cracked her knuckles. She had only been out her trying to find some peace of mind and this... something just had to have followed her to make her life a living hell.

The shade looked up from where it had been scuffing an inky foot at a patch of frost on the ground. "Lock? Curse?" The silhouette's head craned to the side at a disturbingly deep angle and then popped upright like it had never even moved. The grey line of a mouth smiled broadly as the figure let out a long 'Aaaaaaah' in its borrowed voice. "You'd like to be a man again then?"

Ranma was about to snarl and leap onto the figure that dared to mock her at a time like this when she felt her body shift like it had just been dropped into a hot spring. The now black haired boy stood rooted to the ground as he had changed forms while completely dry.

The teen's fists curled and uncurled into fists and back again at his side as he looked up at the moon and had to fight to calm himself even while in the grips of the Soul of Ice. His eyes snapped down to the inky figure – who was simply waiting around unmoving for once – and he let out one final, measured breath,

"Who tha' hell are yah?"

The shade moved again, barely a flicker before it grabbed Ranma by his shoulders, twisted him about and then moved away from him and was offering its shadowy hand to shake before the martial artist could even think to react.

"I'm chaos." The creature spoke with Ranma's male voice now as it kept its hand offered in greeting. "And you have been friends with me for a very long time Ranma."

Ranma thrust his hands into his pockets as he eyed the proffered hand suspiciously. "Chaos?"

The shade shifted its head to the side once more and then back again and laughed. "If you wish to take it so formally I will oblige you of course. What is a friend if they aren't tolerant of another's quirks?"

Ranma frowned heavily – it seemed even when he dealt with demons they had to be the odd-balls of the lot. Pulling one hand out of his pocket the martial artist stared at it a moment before glaring back up at this 'Chaos' fellow. "Well then, what tha' hell did ya' do to my curse – an' I ain't going to shake your hand so you'd be better off putting that away somewhere."

The short black haired teen muttered under his breath about fiances before snapping his mouth shut and waiting on his counterpart's response.

"I'm simply exerting control over something that belongs to me – nothing more and nothing less." Chaos responded, his voice almost dripping sorrow as he withdrew his hand and the entire arm seemed to almost collapse into his body.

Ranma's eyes blazed and he took a step forward as the Soul of Ice broke with a snap and the temperature returned to normal – an action which caused a thick wind to swirl around the pair. "If yah are tryin' ta' say I belong to ya' this is only gonna end one way – and that's something yah can ask your buddy Saffron about once 'e learns to talk again."

The teenage froze as he suddenly found himself with Chaos standing behind him again with an arm thrown across his chest. The martial artist knew that the shade hadn't even moved. He had simply ceased to exist at one point where he had been and reappeared where he was now.

"Saffron wasn't a friend of mine and you aren't anyone's property my dear Saotome." The shade gave a gentle squeeze before it once more appear sitting on the stump it had started the night on. The creature's inky black arms reached up and folded behind its head as explosions of grey and white fought across its nearly invisible muscles. "Jusenkyo on the other hand is without a doubt mine. Always and forever."

The black haired martial artist snorted and turned his back on the shade. "Fix yer damn curse an' leave me alone then."

As Ranma finished turning so he was facing the fire pit he found Chaos sitting on the other side on an identical stump. The silhouette was shaking its head – possibly in mirth, possibly in sadness since there was no other movement to the creature's entire body.

"I can't do that." Ranma did his best to ignore his own voice talking to him as he set about trying to relight the wood he had gathered – he was hungry and as weird as things were going he was most definitely not having the first meal he had in days be cold. "The Guide did tell you that it was permanent and I would imagine that your... investigation of that claim so far has proved that to be concretely true."

Looking up from his efforts at lighting the now-damp wood Ranma's face showed his annoyance very clearly. "'s what ya' doin' here botherin' me for if yah ain't nothing but a crazy ol' charlatan." The martial artist looked back down and banged the two rocks together again in a shower of sparks.

"I'd like to offer you a job." Ranma's own voice told him in a tone smoother than he had ever spoken himself. "And believe it or not I'd like to see you make some friends that would last you a life time."

The black haired teen didn't even bother to look up from his ministrations towards fire this time. "Uh-huh." The short haired boys eyes turned hard as he concentrated on his task and pushed out thoughts he rather wouldn't think on again tonight. "I don't know if'n ya' could tell, but neither of those are somethin' I could ever be good at."

"Depression does not suit you Saotome Ranma." The martial artist refused to rise to the bait and instead continued to try and light the fire that he knew to be a futile gestured with the supplies he currently had.

A single pellet of darkness streaked into the teen's vision and slammed into the wood causing it to burst into a roaring blaze. Ranma placed both his rocks carefully onto the ground and looked up at Chaos with smouldering anger in his eyes.

"What tha' hell do ya' want?"

The shade smiled and clasped its hands in front of it – a movement that made its whole body seem to indistinctly ripple. "I want to take you to Juuban."

Ranma snorted. "That's in Tokyo."

Chaos quirked its head to the side and rocked forward on the stump it was using as a seat. "It is."

"Ya' must be crazier than yah look – which is sayin' somethin' in itself – if ya' think I'll do that." Ranma frowned and rubbed his hand through the back of his hair once more. He had made a decision and he wasn't going to go back on it just because some demon thought he could make him his toy.

"And if I told you what I'm trying to ask you to do is save lives? That all I want to do is protect the weak?" Chaos's said each word clearly and as flat as possible. The shade itself moved once more, now sitting with its back pressed against where Ranma crouched and the martial artist knew that if someone had been watching now the two of them would be mirroring each other.

Ranma sat and listened to the soft crackling of the fire Chaos had made sitting before him. The young man didn't even bother to move – somehow knowing where ever he went right now Chaos would flicker to mimic his position.

"Why me?"

"Because your the only one who can truly protect them from me." Ranma's own voice responded to his question once again.

Ranma swirled around on his heel and he and the shade were face-to-face, only inches apart. The martial artists didn't flinch as he watched the utter chaos that drifted across the figure before him. "This some kinda joke? You playin' some game where ya' want'a play villian while I hav'ta go hero an' keep things from gettin' too out'a hand?"

Chaos folded his hands underneath his chin and brace his elbows against his knees. His body seemed to melt together as he took up the casual position and the warring bursts of light and dark in his body slid easily from one section of skin to another. "Things are already out of hand my dear Saotome." A frown curved out of the grin line of a mouth on the shade's face. "I told you were are friends and we are – for the whole time you have drawn breath we have been – but, soon I will try to kill you just as I have tried to do so before. That is the nature of my existence."

Before Ranma could respond to the suddenly grim apparition Chaos had flickered away and was now standing on the edge of the cliff looking down at the waves crashing against the land below. "Ranma." The shade called back, its voice sounding no less strong despite the new distance between them. "Out of all the beings in this universe you are my conscious. In many other realms you do not exist and as a consequence I do not walk as free as I do with you now." The shade flickered once more and all of sudden Ranma found himself standing up with Chaos kneeling before him.

"I would have you be my saviour."

The shade looked up and all the colour drained from his body as everything that made it what it was stood shockingly still. Chaos was pure inky blackness, devoid even of the slight grey line that had represented its mouth.

"Saotome Ranma I would have you be my knight – for I have lacked one for so long."

Ranma stared and then he felt a small grin tug at the corner's of his mouth. "Y'know I ain't no Kuno right?"

Chaos's body flickered and the war returned two-fold across its body as it stood – its movements natural for once – and laughed. The voice that rang out from its gently curved grey slit wasn't Ranma's this time but something else.

It seemed to infinitely echo until it cut off with such suddenness Ranma finally started to think he might have been hallucinating the whole time from drinking too much sea water.

"No, you are most certainly not." Ranma's own voice addressed him again. "But you are who I am in need of and that is all that matters."

Ranma raised one eyebrow up as Chaos once more proffered his hand out to be shook by the young martial artist. The black haired teen stared at the hand and folded his own arms across his chest.

The way that his life had gone so far Ranma was pretty confident that there was a fifty percent chance that he was just getting played by this demon for his own amusement – the other fifty percent was that he was getting played by the demon for its own advantage.

But, before everything else, Saotome Ranma was a martial artist and that meant protected people and if he could actually save lives by allying himself to the creature before him there was no way he could say no.

Looking up towards the sky and remembering the single moment of peace he had been allowed to have earlier as he had laid back and watched the moon and the stars Ranma unfolded his arms. Staring down at his right hand as if it had all of a sudden turned into a shark waiting for him to begin to bleed the martial artist reached out and clasped hands with Chaos.

It was a firm but cold grip that met his hand.

"Thank you." Ranma's own voice told him before the shade pulled him in and the teen found himself literally falling into the figure before him. As the inky black body enveloped his own Ranma once again heard the odd, echoing voice that Chaos had used to laugh earlier.

"Oh. I forgot to say – you do know that you make a most wonderful tomboy, right?"

Ranma opened his voice to shout back, but as he moved the darkness now moved into him and he almost choked as he felt nothing more than shadows slither through his body.

Then, the teen's vision was blown away as light exploded around him painfully. He felt himself falling and any action he could take was cut short when something slammed into his side.

Ranma groaned and the voice that matched to his action only caused him to let out another, even less happy sigh. The painful bloom of light that had burned into his eyes receded and darkness returned – but the martial artist quickly realised it was the natural blackness of him having his eyes tightly squeezed shut.

Righting herself under the – Ranma grabbed the object she had landed awkwardly against and was pretty sure it was the side of a desk – the desk the short, red haired girl opened her eyes.

Looking around at the solid bookshelves filled with unmarked, non-descript volumes and the subdued brown colouring of the walls and pairing it with the desk she had landed the martial artist was pretty sure she was in either a very small library or an office.

Staring at the one window that wasn't heavily swathed with curtains in the room Ranma was surprised to find that it looked to be about mid-day where ever he had appeared.

There was a gentle cough behind her.

Ranma sighed as her day just got better and better and turned to find herself facing a man that had just entered the small room – definitely an office, probably his – and shut the door calmly.

He had short white hair, but despite that only seemed to be middle-aged. He wore a light blue button up with darker blue stripes, a blue tie that matched the stripes, blue suit pants and what Ranma recognized as a Doctor's long white overcoat.

All-in-all he would have been pretty normal if it wasn't for the fact that one of the lenses of his glasses looked like it was both impossible to see out of and like it had been designed by someone with about as much artist brilliance as Gosunkugi Hikaru.

Pushing herself off the desk and ignoring the now faint twinges of pain coming from her eyes and her ribs Ranma brushed her bangs back into place and straightened her red and black Chinese silks.

"Ah, sorry 'bout this." Ranma felt herself blush but forced her eyes to keep contact with... well with the older man's one visible eye. "I'm Saotome Ranma."

* * *

_So, hrm, there we go. Before anyone starts making assumptions on how this is gonna go I'd like to say people exist before their plot-line shows up in things so we're probably a lot earlier on than you might think things are.  
_

_To everyone that reads A Stitch Through Worlds, you aren't being left gliding and will have a chapter at some point today. Not sure when this will next update but I wanted to write it out to here so I could work on other things without it driving me crazy._

_As always, thank you for your time._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author Note: Disclaimer, no contents of Ranma ½ or Sailor Moon have been thought up or invented by me. This is purely a work of fan fiction and is not meant for promotional or finical endeavors. This is meant to be made in respect and admiration for series' of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi and all the contents of Ranma ½ and Sailor Moon belong, respectively, to them._

_Please respect the fans, and fandom of the series by remaining polite and open minded while reading._

* * *

A familiar feeling of dread welled up inside Ranma as she stood with her best disarming grin on her face and her right hand frozen in place where it had been nervously circling scratching at the back of her head. Her she was, possibly appearing out of nowhere in front of someone, dripping water onto the carpet of what was a rather expensive looking and well kept office.

Yet, despite that fact the suited and lab-coated man across for her wasn't reacting to her presence in any sane matter at all.

Truthfully, he wasn't reacting at all – something that despite her own less than civilized track record Ranma was solidly sure was further off the deep end than the last of Japan's crazed whalers.

Then the man finally did something besides stand there seemingly staring _through_ instead of at his unexpected guest. The smile that bloomed across the white-haired doctor's face as his eyes focused to a disturbing intensity on Ranma made the martial artist feel as if ten copies of the Old Ghoul had suddenly surrounded her and all dropped into the Soul of Ice.

It was cocksure and felt like the casual study of a butcher who had decided on just how he could best make use of the pile of meat slapped down upon his chopping block.

Before Ranma could react to the alarming change in the man's demeanor the it rapidly morphed once more as he wordlessly dismissed Ranma and forcibly strode past the martial artist – the white coat trailing backwards in the air at the aggression in the man's movements. A tic began to appear at the corner of the redhead's mouth as he heard the room's owner calmly pull out the chair to his desk and sit down with a slight and contented sigh.

Insanity. This was the familiar realm of insanity and it was not something that Ranma had ever wanted to deal with again – especially not at the behest of some jackass of a demon.

Gritting her teeth at both the fact that she was a she and at the actions of her so far silent host the martial artist decided enough was enough and spun on her heel. She almost reeled backwards as she was faced with the sight of the the strange man coiled over a open folder scribbling frantically upon a pile of documents.

Even when _writing_ the man didn't make sense. The pressure he exerted upon his pen wasn't even constant and despite the difficulty Ranma had in making out what he was writing it was obvious even at a distance that each character was either blotted with too much ink or almost illegibly faint from too little. Sometime he would even stop mid stroke and travel erratically all the way down the page to begin writing somewhere else – his first thought not even finished.

Steeling her resolve Ranma took a step forward and stopped herself just short of slamming her palms down – and possibly through – the finely polished desktop. Her palms still hit with enough force that she could feel the red sting of impact and they made a sufficiently sharp _thud_ to bring a grin of her own to the martial artist's face.

Not willing to give away her initiative the redhead's left hand darted out and deftly stole the pen from out of the man's hand and then made it disappear with a twirl. The brazen maneuver managed to once more completely gain the attention of the room's owner.

This time though the gazed shared between the two was one of one predator looking to the other.

Unfolding from where she was stooped over the desk Ranma crossed her arms and kept on with her assault. "Now tha' we're lookin' ta' be back at square one let's go through this again-" The martial artist pointed to herself. "Saotome Ranma." Next the redhead rolled her wrist and let her finger point towards the bridge of the man's glasses. "An' who are you – besides ah rude ol' man."

Ranma scored herself a point as the man's face dropped its maniac grin and turned brilliantly sour. "You should already know. You were sent here were you not? I have no use for such a lack of resourcefulness- everything must stay under control; you must be here to control the path-" The man's voice had started off smooth but had slowly twisted into a hiss until he was barely audible. Ranma could only catch a few words as the man seemed to berate himself about 'worms' and 'failure'.

Resisting the urge to just let out one long sigh Ranma knew without a doubt that her life was somehow back to whatever the cosmos thought it should be.

"Look. You seem ta' got tha' picture that I just were dropped down in here, right?" Ranma forced the exasperation out of her voice and replaced it with confidence. She was happily rewarded as the man seemed to respond to her tone and stopped his unsettling ramble to reply with a firm nod. It was odd to watch the man seesaw from a complete wreck to a consummate picture of professionalism, but there wasn't much in the world that could still be counted as a new experience for the redhead these days. "Then let's jus' skip tha' part where you 'pologize fer being a jerk and get it just down ta' this: name an' why tha' hell I'm still standin' here instead of jumpin' out yer window."

The once more silent man glowered for a second – surprising Ranma as her body tensed in anticipation for a fight it knew without a doubt was about to come – before his face relaxed into the first natural looking smile she had seen so far.

"Of course, if that is what you want Saotome-san." The man's voice rolled forward like a wave of oil surfing its way atop of a flood. "You should know me as Tomoe Souichi, though you might be more comfortable with Dr. Tomoe, and as for why I'm rather stressed-" The man gave a helpless shrug and Ranma's hackles rose once more from the effortless charm that now surrounded the white-haired man. Souichi either didn't notice or ignored the anxiety in his guest as he swiftly spun the folder of documents he had been editing earlier so that Ranma could get a clear view of it – as far as the martial artist could tell from a glance it looked a bit like a personal medical file. "- I've recently been swamped by the work I've taken upon myself and while I have no regrets about the cause I have adopted this has made a rather stilted environment for my daughter and I."

Ranma couldn't help but frown at the reveal that here she was facing another parent who was willing to put some abstract goal above the concerns and well-being of their own kid.

What a freakin' joke Chaos had decided to drop her in.

The Doctor reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a picture of a young girl, dark haired and pale of skin the child looked to be straddling the line between adolescence and her teenaged years, and placed it down on top of the first page of the file. Taking a closer look at the page of hand written notes Ranma was happy to see that the girl's name – Tomoe Hotaru – must have been filled out while the man was still in one of his more stable moods.

Now that she had a name to place to the face the martial artist turned her attention back to the photo. Her frown only deepened as she studied the static image before her; the kid's face was in an unnaturally neutral expression for someone that young and while Ranma would need to meet Hotaru in person to be sure she was pretty sure that Doctor Tomoe's daughter wasn't as healthy as she should be.

Turning her attention back up towards a patiently waiting Souichi, Ranma didn't try and hide the disapproval in her eyes. "I know your story-" The martial artist's voice made it clear that she was also not impressed by it. "- but what about your wife – she have some calling that leaves your kid fending for herself too?"

Doctor Tomoe's entire body seemed to shift in what had to be the most violent twitch Ranma had ever seen and for a moment a look of horrified sorrow crossed the man's face before the coolly charming persona he had been maintaining since his earlier episode reasserted itself.

"My wife is dead Saotome and I would have you not bring her up again in either my own or my daughter's presence – we humans let our loved ones turn back to ash for a reason." Souichi's voice was bland and he grasped his hands together in front of his mouth, his elbows resting lightly against his desk, as if to hide the truth of his words from sight.

Ranma opened her mouth, an apology twisting itself on her tongue, but was cut off as the Doctor dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand and continued. "I have an assistant but Hotaru finds her to be distasteful and I have fears that continued association between the two will be more harmful to everyone's future than not." The older man reached his hand across the table and lightly closed the folder and lifted it in offering to the martial artist before him. "I have been told that perhaps she could maintain her civility better in the company of someone slightly closer to her own age and all I ask of you is to be her guardian during the weekends."

The redhead almost walked out right there. Martial Arts Child Care wasn't one of the various and insane styles she had picked up during her time in Nerima and despite how simple it sounded to just hang around the kind for 'the weekends' only Ranma wasn't fool enough to fall into that trap.

But, the sleaze – Ranma felt without a doubt that the term applied to Dr. Tomoe – had managed to word his request well enough that the martial artist was cinched into accepting no matter what.

_A martial artist's duty is to protect._

Ranma snorted and snatched the folder as quickly as possible from out of Souichi's hands. A guardian – that was what she was supposed to be.

"Yeah, whatever yah say Doc." Despite the grumbling tone the martial artist's words came out clear as she busied herself with slipping the folder into the nothingness of her personal ki-space. "Pick the brat up on Friday's then – where you got a mind fer me ta' be at?"

Dr. Tomoe – who had frantically turned towards more of his erratic writing as soon as the folder had left his hand – looked up and favoured the black and red clad woman before him once more with his insane smirk from earlier.

"Why Saotome-san – all you need to know is a time!" The Doctor's voice dripped with caustic amusement. Souichi toyed with the pen he had taken out to replace the one Ranma had stolen as he stood up. "You are already inside of my somewhat humble home after all."

Closing his eyes as he stepped forward and leaned against the corner of his desk Souichi seemed to find a moment of peace as he carefully placed the wet fountain pen down far away from the sheets of paper that almost plastered his work space. When he opened his eyes again his demeanor had once swung it's pendulum back towards that of a charming and arguably sane man.

"We'll expect you here no later than four if you don't mind. And there isn't a need for us to discuss a return date – I'll let Hotaru know for her to show you her school and she'll just need to be dropped off there each Monday morning." The man clapped his hands together with a satisfied smile on his face. "Are we in agreement then?"

Ranma glared as the man cheerfully bartered away his daughter with nothing more than his own convenience in mind. "I already said I would do it."

Souichi nodded to himself and then retook his seat at his desk. "I'm sure someone of your capacity can see themselves out Saotome-san?" Without waiting for a real response the Doctor began to shift through the mess of papers he kept and began to mumble completely unintelligibly to himself.

Opening her mouth to respond sarcastically Ranma stopped and instead frowned. The martial artist instead walked past the man's desk and pushed open the heavy wooden framed window. The slight breeze that invaded the room didn't even seem to register in the Doctor's mind as it cut its way across the back of his coat and Ranma briefly entertained the idea of kicking Souichi in the back of the head.

Looking back at the dim room that surrounded her and then the warm mid-day glow of the world outside the window the redhead only shook her head and curled her legs up under her so that she was suddenly perched on the edge of her impromptu exit.

The street outside was mostly deserted – both of people and other buildings – with the only things Ranma could see around being a single burnt out building across from the home she was currently in and a pair of drunks slumped in the gutter sleeping off what was far too long of a previous night. Hopping out of the second story window the martial artist landed nimbly on the short expanse of dead grass the occupied the few feet of ground before the sidewalk.

Turning herself around Ranma's eyebrows rose at the house she had just left. It was solid brick, had a third story rising above the second that she had just left and sat squatly across its property looking about as angry as Ryoga after the Lost Boy hadn't been in Nerima for a while.

The property wasn't one that would be hard to find; especially after Ranma casually leaned back to look first left and then right at the areas around it. Everything else seemed to have been abandoned – some lots nothing but now crumbling foundations – and the evidence of a large scale fire was clear across the entire block.

"Such a beautiful tragedy." Ranma's eyes flicked up towards the top of the house immediately as her own voice drifted down from it. Sitting with its back blending into the shingles of the roof but legs standing out starkly against the weathered brick was Chaos.

The redhead's fist clenched and she could feel her body begin to tremble as his mind screamed at her to fight. "Ya' locked tha' curse."

Chaos's head shifted from being held upright to being cocked horizontally with no movements in between. "I'm sorry Ranma, but I'm afraid I'm not aware of any curses – in you or anywhere." The seldom heard apologetic tone to his own voice coming out of the demon served only to make Ranma's body begin to visibly quiver. Possibly obvious to the change in its companion, but none the less ignoring the entire situation, Chaos was suddenly standing and then stepped off the roof. One inky hand caught the window that the redhead had left open and slammed it closed as it passed towards the ground.

Ranma took a step forward to where the creature was going to land – but stopped mid-motion as Chaos disappeared from view. An arm covered in grey vortexes and explosions of violent white settled weightlessly around the martial artist's shoulder.

"Is there something wrong with a friend coming to visit their favourite tomboy?" Ranma's own voice queried of her.

Bristling the martial artist struck out with an elbow that only flew up against thin air. Chaos, for its part, was standing across from Ranma with the casual stance and assurance that that was where it had _always_ been. "Don't call me that." Ranma gritted out as she brought her stance back under control.

The creature brought its hands together and pulled its arms in – the limbs disappearing as the lines that kept them distinct disappeared inside of its torso – and bowed until Ranma was looking at what should have been the top of its head. For a moment Ranma thought that the demon might have found some amount of respect, but then when its head began to lift back up the redhead saw that the thin, grey crescent of a smile had returned.

"Don't worry so much – being one is part of what makes you so cute."

Ranma's punch was aimed at her target's gut before it had even opened its stupid voice stealing mouth. Instead of ceasing to exist in the space that it had was occupying though Chaos simply walked out of the punch as if Ranma had been moving in slow motion. The demon placed both of its hands upon the martial artist's extended arm and then held her there.

Ranma's eyes moved frantically towards where the inky-mockery of a person stood and tried to wrap her mind around what was happening – she was completely unable to move any part of her body besides her eyes despite the fact that the hold that the demon had on her was laughable at best.

"Let's remain calm, eh, Ranma?" The redhead's own voice chirped happily at her. "Didn't I say I've been your friend this whole time. I've always meant everything I've said."

Ranma wanted to snort at that – do anything in response really – as the demon had to be an entire pile of contradictions for its last statement to be true. It had professed to being her friend multiple times now, but that didn't mean that she had forgotten how it had casually mentioned trying to murder her and how it had no intention to stop anytime soon either.

"As for locks-" Ranma's attention was turned entirely towards Chaos as it spoke that word. The demon seemed to notice it too as it clipped itself off to bend itself over her outreached arm. Its body just grew, elongated and snaked closer until Ranma and the creature were looking at each other face to face with barely an inch between them. The swirls of grey and white bursts slowly drained from the face as the two were forced to stare at each other and then its mouth returned – this time placing itself into a shy smile that was almost lost in the abyssal black of its existence. "If I've done anything for you Ranma it wasn't to lock but unlock."

Chaos snapped back to its normal dimension and was back to where it maintained its hold on the martial artist's arm. Ranma's attention was still captured completely as she tried to figure out just how what the creature had said played into it toying around with her life. Then, her mind went blank as she watched the demon place both hands right next to each other and then ran one up and the other down the span of her arm.

Where the hands passed her arm had been replaced with the familiar form of his.

As Chaos finished and its hands left Ranma's shoulder and clenched fist the martial artist eye's locked on the impossible sight before her.

The rest of her body was still as it had been when she dragged herself out of the sea on the coast of China, but her left arm was exactly as it should have been attached to her birth body. It was impossible – let alone the differences in the skeletons and muscles between the two forms – it went against everything that Ranma had ever learned or knew about the curse.

The redhead knew she could move now, knew in her bones that whatever strange hold that Chaos had froze her in was gone, but the new hold that the demon had put upon was stronger than the previous one could ever be.

Fear.

Saotome Ranma was afraid to move. Afraid that if she moved that his arm would rip itself off of her body and she'd bleed out here. Afraid that she'd always be stuck like this – worse off than any lock than before – a freak of a girl with one horribly disfigured limb for the rest of her life.

The redhead closed her eyes and dived deep inside of herself – finding the shard of ice within her soul that would allow her to regain control of herself. Feeling the chill spread out around her Ranma remained in the dark as she moved her body out of its frozen blow and allowed herself to relax.

Nothing broke, nothing tore. Movement was as easy and natural for her as it had always been.

Opening her eyes Ranma's heart sunk in surprise. Her left arm now mirrored her right again; she was normal. Looking up and across from her the martial artist glared at Chaos. "What did you do?"

The demon, who was copying her trademark stance with its body held loosely and hands shoved where pockets should be, shrugged and then responded. "Nothing that you can't."

"Bastard." _Bastard._ Ranma wanted out. She had tried to get out – to get away from the insanity that had marked her life from the moment of birth until now. Glaring at the demon before her though; the bastard of a creature obviously had taken offense to any sort of stability in the life of Saotome Ranma. "Was this all yah wanted me fer? Drop me on an ol' creep an' make me play baby-sitter?"

Chaos's head shifted back into its confused position. "Baby-sitter? No – the girl is your own concern." The creature shifted again, now with its hands crossed over its chest and its face turned towards the sky. "She's dying though – I usually see her dead – but it isn't something I'll ever find to care about."

"Shaddup." Ranma bite out fiercely. The demon had no right to speak with her voice like that – about something like that. "Ain't nobody gonna die under my watch."

Chaos was suddenly close to the redhead again. Its arm thrown across her shoulders companionably. "That _is_ the whole point." The martial artist's voice told her cheerfully. "I brought you in because I always have known you are good for your word – we're close to each other on that."

"I ain't nothin' like yah." Ranma told the demon as she tried to shrug off, but only succeeded in making Chaos flit from hanging on to her right to her left side.

The demon just hummed to itself and then titled its head so its inky cheek rested against the redhead's shoulder. "We should really get going if you don't want to go back on your word though."

"Goin'? Where tha' hell you tryin' ta' take me this time?"

Chaos only laughed happily in response and tilted Ranma's head up towards the sky. Unsure why the demon wanted her to stare at what was an almost completely empty blue sky the martial artist focused on a spot of clouds far off towards the city proper as Chaos's hand pointed towards it with an exploding white finger.

"Where're going-" Chaos cheerfully extended its pronunciation of going as it lifted one foot and Ranma was grudgingly copied the annoying creature that had almost glued itself to her. "- here!"

Ranma's foot came down and a cacophony of noise burst forth from the air around here. The sky above her was different now – the sun in a slightly different place and a patchy series of clouds drifting lazily through the air.

The martial artist snapped her head down and saw that the location was also certainly different. The redhead was standing on a set of stairs and looking down towards the street side entrance of... wherever she was at.

A cordon of blue uniformed police and bright white barriers reinforced the small bar that was meant to only keep out vehicles, but would have failed at stopping the mass of foot traffic that now teemed around the entrance. An officer – who unlike his fellows who manned the barrier had eschewed wearing his protective vest – stood upon a chair and held a megaphone in his white gloved hands. He repeatedly announced to the crowd to please calm themselves and that updates would be released publicly as whatever investigation was going on continued.

The atmosphere was almost choked with panic and grief and Ranma swallowed heavily as she looked into the crowd to see some faces stricken with grief and trailing tears while others simply were locked in shocked disbelief or anger. The crowd was mostly middle-aged – some of the members looking as if they should have still been at work by the way they were dressed.

A snarl on her lips Ranma turned her attention to Chaos – who, predictably, was sitting down on the stairs next to her and seemed all together bored. "Where – how -" The martial artist could feel her own anger began to boil – whatever was going on below them was serious and she didn't have time for the demon's games.

"We walked." Chaos stated simply.

Confusion ramped up in the redhead's mind as she was suddenly hit with a long slew of memories. They had walked. Walked all the way from the Doctor's house and out of Juuban to whatever district of Minato City they were now in.

Which had to be impossible because Ranma's mind knew that she had arrived her before... before she had somehow walked her. Her head throbbing more than it did after taking a punch to the temple from a certain bull-octopus-bird-thing that would remain unnamed unless he showed up to add to the madness of the last few hours.

Glaring back down at Chaos, Ranma instead continued her interrogation. "Where?" In response the demon only jerked its thumb up the stairs and behind them.

Turning, Ranma swallowed heavier as she read the sign above the door to the building at the end of the stairs. Police, angry people, and an investigation – of course this was where they were at.

Staring at the entrance to the Minato City Police Station Ranma barely noticed as Chaos stood and brushed off imaginary dust from itself before clasping the martial artist's shoulders in both of its hands. With a gentle squeeze and a whispered, "Good luck.", in the demon's own otherworldly and echoing voice Chaos disappeared.

* * *

_Second chapter up after more than long of a wait. Sorry about that. Thanks for dropping by anyway and joining in on my fun._

_Movement and descriptions for chaos are a joy to write - even if it is possibly the worst._


	3. Chapter 3

_Author Note: Disclaimer, no contents of Ranma ½ or Sailor Moon have been thought up or invented by me. This is purely a work of fan fiction and is not meant for promotional or finical endeavors. This is meant to be made in respect and admiration for series' of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi and all the contents of Ranma ½ and Sailor Moon belong, respectively, to them._

_Please respect the fans, and fandom of the series by remaining polite and open minded while reading._

* * *

Metropolitan Police.

Ranma winced and let her eyes drag over the words displayed proudly over the door a few steps from where she was standing. From the time that she had been two the martial artist's life had repeatedly beat into her the frank lesson that Saotomes and police did not get along.

It could be from the ingrained questioning of authority and need to test themselves that Ranma was pretty sure was a trait that she had inherited – but, more than likely it was all the lying and stealing. Which while Ranma wasn't her father's son enough to have honestly gained a record pertaining the latter she certainly had spent plenty of time with the former.

Besides, the redhead grumbled and almost growled to herself as she thought, knowing how bad the fat ol' panda was half the time there quite likely was a list of crimes floating around somewhere with her name pinned to it.

Sensing someone approaching from behind her Ranma shoved her hands in her pockets and pivoted sharply on the heel of her right foot. The martial artist was slightly surprised to find herself facing a woman decked out in the blue uniform and black protective vest of a police patroller.

Ranma was unsurprised to also see that the brown haired woman – looking to be in either her mid or late twenties – was almost a head and a half taller than the martial artist in his cursed form. The universe was at least consistent about some things.

The policewoman had looked a bit taken back at the martial artist's quick response to her approach and while Ranma could tell that the woman was about to speak the redhead decided she had enough of dancing to others's tunes for the day.

"What's all that abou' then?" Ranma asked casually as she jerked her chin towards the noisily frantic crowd still pushing up against the cordone of officers.

The officer Ranma was facing off with only tightened her lips into a thick line of disapproval at the attitude the martial artist had adopted. "You should not be here Miss. We are currently dealing with a crisis." The woman's glare and clipped, flinty tone of voice laid lie to her polite choice of words.

"You askin' me ta' leave?" Ranma asked with a grin and then took a long, deliberate look at the mass of people at the gate. "Don't look exactly safe ta' me-" The martial artist turned her gaze back towards the officer in front of her. "-now does it?"

The policewoman's pressed down into a firm line once more and while her voice didn't ask how exactly Ranma had gotten in with the crowd being there – especially as the redhead didn't even seem to know _why_ it was there – her eyes certainly did.

All of a sudden the sound coming from the crowd redoubled and this time both Ranma and the brown haired woman snapped their attention towards the gates. The patrollers guarding the redoubt were having to shove people back and the officer with the megaphone was now yelling ineffectively as the new wave of energy that possessed the mob pulled the cacophony to a height that was even capable of drowning out his electronically assisted voice.

Most disturbing of all though, was the fact that almost every pair of eyes seemed to be glued onto either Ranma or the brown haired officer besides her.

A white gloved hand clamped itself around Ranma's bicep and she started to turn even before anymore pressure was applied. The martial artist, once again, beat the other woman to the punch as the redhead spoke up first. "Into tha' station?"

The policewoman simply nodded in response and the two quickly moved up the steps with both a speed and skill in matching each other's pace that spoke of a quiet familiarity in strategic withdrawals.

As the double doors closed with a grateful thud the sounds from outside receded down to a dull rumble. Ranma turned towards the officer – the two having broken contact with each other while opening the doors to get inside – and this time was the one glaring as the anxiety from having a whole crowd turn on her like that sparked into anger

"What was that?"

The policewoman ignored the question for a moment as she stood a quick vigil in front of the two glass doors. As the crowd seemed to call down – or in some cases pushed and shouted down – the woman nodded to herself and then turned her attention towards Ranma.

"You don't-" The patroller clasped her hands together, knuckles standing out clearly against the cloth of her gloves, and her face tensed as she cut herself off. "Those people out there are all missing their daughters – over fifty kids already confirmed missing – and when they saw you seemingly coming out of the station-" The woman's glare pinned back the martial artist's anger as she paused. "For everyone out there right now any girl would do and if we hadn't gotten inside they would have rioted just to get a chance at touching you."

Ranma snorted and sent a flippant glare towards the doors and street beyond. "I ain't no girl." Pulling her hands out of her pockets the redhead crossed her arms. "Name's Saotome Ranma an' I ain't one ta' get touched – 'specially not by ah flock a' weepin' salary chasers."

The brunette lifted one eyebrow and smirked at the younger woman's aggravated and cocksure statement. "Sergeant Suzuki." The policewoman's tone of voice and overall demeanor managed to make the short, two word introduction into the equivalent of a loud and clear, 'Sure, whatever you say delinquent.'

Frowning at the rather discourteous treatment she was receiving from a public servant Ranma muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "What's gotten 'er panties in'na knot?"

Hearing the familiar sound of knuckles cracking the martial artist turned her attention sharply back towards Sergeant Suzuki. The police officer was standing with her back towards Ranma; the woman's posture was ramrod straight and both hands were curled tightly into fists and held in stasis by her sides.

When Suzuki turned her head and exposed a single baleful eye in the redhead's direction Ranma quickly mimed zipping her mouth tightly shut.

Following the officer around the block wall that served both as a strategic bottle neck and separated the entryway from the lobby proper Ranma was surprised to see that the receiving desk was unattended. Matching Suzuki step for step the martial artist silently took stock of her surroundings.

The hall they had turned down was both tight and solidly built; combined with the fact that the ceiling was relatively low and a surprising lack of side rooms the station would have been a nightmare for just about anyone besides Ryoga to fight in.

As the hall ahead of the pair finally turned off from its unerringly straight path Ranma's curiosity wrestled with the boredom that had begun to sink in as the myriad sounds of conversation drifted around the corner. The martial artist wasn't entirely certain where things were heading, but knowing how her life normally railroaded itself there was some sort of bizarre challenge coiling itself just beyond the horizon.

Turning the corner as she continued to follow Suzuki, Ranma felt a bit of tension that had subconsciously built in her muscles dissipate at the sight of the high ceiling'ed and open room that appeared to be the heart of this floor of the station. The area was filled with bustling officers working either in small groups or at the various islands of desks that partitioned the room into a clearly defined grid. Past the desks was an open area dominated by a large corkboard tacked to the wall between two heavy oak doors that marked the entrances to what was most likely a pair of private offices.

As soon as Suzuki had walked into view some of the police inside had begun to call out greetings or questions on who her "guest" was; the patroller mostly waved the questions off as her eyes scanned the crowd until locking onto the part of the room to their left that was the ceded domain of the office coffee maker.

Or, more specifically, the middle-aged officer sporting a bad comb-over that was just about to press the lip of his steaming mug of liquid excellence to his parched mouth.

The policewoman's arm snapped out in her contented fellow's direction at the same time as she motion with her other hand for Ranma to stop following her. "Aiba, get the once over on this kid so we can contact whoever needs to know about her!"

The man swiveled with the grace of an expert in being surprised and the liquid in his mug didn't even shiver as he lowered the cup away from his face. The man's face clearly asked the question of 'why' even before his lips started to move.

Suzuki, who had already turned away from the other officer and was stalking towards a chaos-ridden mess of a desk that was most likely hers, only jerked a thumb at Ranma from over her shoulder as she called back to Aiba. "You looked too happy to have any real work going on and I still need to get my set of files together for the Superintendent."

With a heavy sigh Officer Aiba waved Ranma over as he dragged a spare chair from out of the corner and over to the desk that was closest to the coffee maker.

The martial artist, a scowl having set across her face throughout the whole exchange, shoved her hands in her pocket and walked as casually as she could to the chair upon which reaching she practically vaulted over the back and into the seat.

Aiba, looking incredibly bored, simply sipped at his coffee and lazily pressed a few keys on the keyboard sitting in front of the bulky CRT monitor that took up the right side of his workspace.

The redhead crossed her arms over her chest and resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the man across from her. "I ain't a kid ya' know."

The policeman lifted one eyebrow and then let loose an infuriatingly contented smile as a he took another draught from his coffee before placing the mug precisely down upon a weathered looking ring stain on the wood of his desk.

"Answer my questions and I'll know."

Ranma snorted in response as she felt herself entering into some stupid little power game that felt awfully like starting up a conversation with Nabiki. "Yah plan on chargin' me with somethin' then?"

The man's smile only widened. "Worse comes to worst and you turn out to be the hot-head delinquent you act like and we'll just have to see you sent home with your parents and a stern warning."

Ranma couldn't help but visibly blanch at that idea – there was no way that Saotome Ranma was going back to Nerima with barely even a few weeks out of it. The martial artist's scowl deepened as Aiba's eyes danced in mark of the point he had just scored.

"And if it all turns out okay you'll just have to keep us company until the lot outside can be sent home." The policeman cracked his knuckles and placed his hands over his keyboard and then lifted an eyebrow once more in Ranma's direction. "Questions then?"

"Wheneva' yah ready yourself baldly."

The officer didn't respond to the sudden change in attitude from the redhead and instead just nodded as if the statement of bravado had been the most natural response in the world. "Name?"

"Saotome Ranma." Matching the man's boredom with boredom Ranma idly looked up towards the ceiling as she responded.

"City?"

"Nerima"

Ranma looked down after responding as the officer on the other side of the desk let out a low 'hmmmm' as he typed idly at the computer. "Quite a bit away from your stomping grounds. You got anything more specific for me kid?"

"I ain't a kid an' sure, just check in under Furinkan and I'll get myself out of both of our hairs."

Aiba slowly typed out the request and then let a momentary frown pass his face before snapping his attention back up to Ranma with the same infuriating, lazy smile on his face from earlier. "Kid you either got a pair of balls-" The smile turned to a smirk as the officer scanned his eyes up and down the martial artist's body. "-under there or you're the worst liar I've met in years.

Ranma gritted her teeth against the insult the officer threw against her, but could do little about the surge in her combative nature that willed her to meet the man's aggression with her own. Gripping her hands against knees the redhead glared at Aiba. "An' I don't care what ya' think – what I'm sayin' is yer either blind, an idiot or both to not be able to figure out who someone is when yah get them sittin' right across from yah tellin' yah who they are!"

Aiba was out of his seat and with his hands pressing down against his desk as he leaned forward. "Watch your tone with me girl – maybe your parents put up with a mouth like that, but much more and you walk a line that will see you finding what a night under lock and key can do for a kid like you." The officer lifted one hand and pointed his index finger uncomfortably close to Ranma's face. "I checked what you said you brat and not only is there no 'Saotome Ranma' anywhere in the _entire_ city of Nerima there also isn't any record of a 'Furinkan' either. Maybe you just get off on lying to the cops or maybe you think a stunt like this is just a joke–"

Ranma grabbed the offending hand stabbing towards her face – her own moving like it was a strike of lightning. The martial artist pulled her legs up and braced off against the chair underneath her; uncoiling like a spring Ranma propelled herself up over the desk and wrenched Aiba's body around violently. The martial artist's feet landed soundlessly on the top of the desk as the patroler's cheek simultaneously thudded loudly against the rose coloured wood – the entire action happened so quick Aiba's voice was clipped off without even a sound of struggle.

The soft _clink_ of the man's coffee mug tipping over following the scuffle set the room ablaze.

The officer's closest moved first; standing up and sounding the alarm to the rest of their fellows as all the eyes in the room peeled away from their previously consuming work to the more immediate problem.

Ranma tightened her lock on both of Aiba's arms and pressed the man's face harder against the desk to quiet both his struggling and his attempts at muffled shouts. Watching the room around her the redhead frowned as she saw some of the officers closest to her reach into their desks and draw out their side arms. No martial artist liked guns – not even the idea of them – but as a group they generally all agreed that they liked them even _less_ when you had a good half dozen of them pointed at what was undoubtedly dead center mass of your body.

Sergeant Suzuki walked her way to the front of the wall of extremely ticked looking police; the tense uniformed mass shifting slightly to accommodate her passage before drawing back to their original positions. The brunette's face was blank and she held her right hand firmly against the butt of her pistol – ready to draw the weapon from its holster at a moment's notice.

"Sergeant." Deciding that she was already one foot in and might as well continue on Ranma quipped the word out in greeting just as Suzuki began to open her mouth. The policewoman's brow twitched for a second as she pressed her lips back together disapprovingly.

"Saotome Ranma." The woman's stern face was blank again as she spoke out in a gravelly, grinding tone. "Release Aiba immediately or I will have someone shoot you."

Ranma's eyebrows raised at that, but the redhead shrugged anyway and with a barely audible 'hup' plucked her hostage up by the back of his shirt and flipped him into the air. Aiba himself let out a half choked shout as the one-armed toss sent him tumbling through the air

"Sure." Ranma responded as she caught the now falling Aiba on the palm of her raised hand. The man groaned as he tried to pull himself tightly into a ball as he was suddenly balanced solely in a single hand of what had just moments earlier seemed to be nothing but a rather thick delinquent. Ranma smirked as she surveyed the crowd. "Who wants to play 'Catch the Ass'?"

The martial artist's head whipped around at the rasping _ke-chk_ sound of a round being chambered into a weapon. Sergeant Suzuki had taken one step forward and now had her pistol braced firmly in both hands and an almost sublimely happy looking grin had turned up on her face.

Sweat broke out on the back of Ranma's neck and she found herself laughing nervously. Glancing quickly to her right the martial artist saw that the two officers closest to her where unarmed and tossed Aiba towards them.

Suzuki stopped stepping forward as the two men caught their fellow patroler by the shoulders and lowered him to the ground gently.

Flipping backwards off the desk so that it was between her and the mass of police Ranma frowned as she looked at each of the still very unhappy faces turned her way. "Now what?"

Sergeant Suzuku, her face blank once more, holstered her weapon and reached her gloved hands towards the handcuffs clipped to her belt. "Now I get to–"

Every head in the room turned as one of the office doors slammed open with a booming _crack_ that sounded as if a grenade had gone off. Eyes tracked the thick, metal cored slab of wood as it shook the wall it crashed against and sent tremours down through the floor.

Then they tracked back towards the figure framed by the doorway that had just been so roughly used. One hand outstretched and the other grounded firmly on a cane the man who had just made his entrance was dressed in an immaculate uniform of blue. He was short and with a lean musculature that belied the strength that he had just displayed.

Dark eyes glared from out of the man's craggy face and his eyebrows pressed down in a thick line of grey as he looked at all of his officers. His well groomed mustache bristled itself out of place as the older man's eyes passed themselves over Ranma. The man placed his cane up against the door way in which he stood and then clasped his hands behind him and spread he legs out in an almost parade ground stance. His eyes made one more roving, disappointed survey of the scene in front of him before he looked up towards the ceiling in sudden disinterest.

"Back to work! If I don't see what I want to see when I look back down there will be hell to pay!" The older man bellowed his orders out with an air of authority and his voice only rose in power as he continued. "Do Not Forget What Is Riding On This Investigation!"

The officers surrounding Ranma favoured the redhead with a few more angry glares before ripping their attention away with a few shouted calls of, "Yes, Superintendent!" and "Sir!" as they turned their backs on the martial artist.

Watching the room devolve into the chaos of everyone returning to what they had been doing before she had had her 'discussion' with Aiba, Ranma peered around and noticed that even Sergeant Suzuki was gathering a disorganized pile of documents back into a folder she had picked up off the floor. Realising this might be her only chance to get out of dodge Ranma took a deep breath– and froze as a wave of concentrated will power _pressed_ itself up against her own reserves of ki.

"Boy!" The Superintendent's voice bellowed out once more with such accuracy that Ranma knew beyond the normal confines of logic that she was the one getting yelled at. "If you have so much as MOVED from that spot before I look back down I will make you regret it more than the day you found out you had been born to Saotome Genma!"

Ranma gulped and tried her best to even still her _thoughts_ of fleeing from the station. The old man was obviously strong. Hell, Ranma berated herself in the confines of her own mind, she should have seen that as soon as he had powered his way out of his office; too small for the force he had so casually used, gripping a cane and with a wrinkled old battlefield of a face capped with lush amounts of grey hair that would be the envy of most middle-aged men – the entire list was there to denote one annoyingly strong and well trained geezer.

When the room had returned to almost exactly what it had been when Ranma had first entered the Superintendent inclined his chin down and let his gaze scan over his officers before giving a short, satisfied nod. Unclasping his hand from behind his back the man put his left hand back on his cane and strode stiffly back into his office.

"Sergeant Suzuki, I believe you have some information – and an unexpected visitor – for me. If you would see both to my office as soon as possible." The Superintendent's voice, while no longer bellowing, carried itself just as far and seemed twice as sharp. His calm tones seemed to home out from his workspace and each syllable was a razor edged resonance that cut across the murmurs of the gathered policemen and women.

A digging, vise like grip latched itself to Ranma's shoulder as the Sergeant somehow replicated Chaos's materialization trick to get within the redhead's defenses was enough for the martial artist to get that; one, she was still in deep as far as it was concerned when it came to the spat with Aiba, and two, 'as soon as possible' despite its appearances meant 'immediately'.

As the two walked through the gridlocked series of desks Ranma could feel a bit of sweat bead on the back of her neck. If the whole scene had been done with martial artists than more than likely the redhead would have been already forgotten in face of some other 'great indignity' or half of the lot would be offering to buy her a meal – with another half of those with their mind on creating their _own_ fight with her through a lunch that would resemble a battefield more than anything else.

The frigidly professional looks that did nothing to curb the hostility displayed by the few officers they had to actually pass by and the fact that Suzuki herself hadn't loosened up on her grip at all spoke that the police were quite a bit different on such matters.

Or, Ranma jerked both herself and the Sergeant out of their walk as she blinked a few times, considering that both groups in the end would be acting out some sort of violence maybe then they were more of a 'kinda' different.

"Sorry 'bout that." Ranma muttered to a glaring Suzuki as he started walking again. The only response the Sergeant got was an insufferably confident grin as the martial artist waved to one of the officers she recognized from earlier as having a gun aimed at her a few minutes before.

Walking into the head-honcho's office with her confidence buoyed back up to its normal levels, Ranma almost stopped again as the image she was faced with was nowhere near what she had expected from someone who had had the attitude to brazenly dress down his subordinates in mass when they hadn't even been reacting wrongly to the situation. It wasn't that the office was overly furnished – the place was spartan to a level that as the redhead let her eyes crane about she was pretty sure there might actually be nothing of a personal nature in the whole room – it was the fact that the entire room had been arranged so that stacks of brooding steel file cabinets had been shoved wherever was spacially possible. It was like they had walked into a reference library and somehow gotten lost along the way.

The effect wasn't helped either by the fact that, unlike the rest of his officers who had well-cared for and waxed matching wood desks, the Superintendent sat behind a clunky metal behemoth which Ranma was pretty sure served both as a work surface and as more file space.

"Sir." Sergeant Suzuki announced as she finally let go of the bones of the martial artist's shoulder and came to attention. The brown haired woman clasped both hands in front of her while still holding onto the folder she had had tucked under her arm for the walk and somehow managed to make the whole ensemble look as formal as it could get.

Ranma, for her part, reached across her chest and started massaging and working the kinks that had sunk their talons in to her flesh under the direction of Suzuki – a woman who apparently had more claw than hand. The martial artist deliberately didn't try and spy on whatever paperwork the Superintendent had been reviewing when they had entered the room.

Seeing how her meeting with Doctor Tomoe had gone – and knowing her luck – Ranma could only hope it wasn't a colouring book.

"Sit." The Superintendent's voice commanded as the man looked up from the papers he had been reading to gesture towards a pair of wooden seats with blue upholstery that had to have been leftovers from the previous owner of the room.

Nodded and making sure to seat herself properly as one of the man's heavily eyebrowed eyes watched Ranma's every movement, the martial artist opened her mouth as soon as she had scooted up against the cushion along the back of the chair.

"Questions can wait for later." The Superintendent tersely rapped out. When Ranma didn't close her mouth immediately instead and instead met the chief's steely gaze with her own challenging one the older man frowned. "I am Shibazaki Kaito and both myself and Saotome Genma have tried to see the other dead on multiple occasions – well before you were born though boy."

The Sergeant seemed a bit put out when Ranma grinned at the announcement that the head of the police station the martial artist was in had admitted to multiple attempts of _murder_ against the redhead's father. Ranma though was simply happy that she hadn't managed to somehow walk into another engagement that would end with multiple attempts of murder on _her own_ life.

Sitting back deeper into the cushion behind her and crossing her arms the martial artist decided perhaps it wouldn't be so bad then when the Superintendent dropped whatever anvil he was holding up at the moment.

Nodding to himself for a moment Superintendent Shibazaki exhaled slowly and then flipped the folder before him closed and slammed a clenched fist down on it with a reverberating metallic _thrum_.

"Sergeant Suzuki-" The woman next to Ranma went ramrod straight as Kaito called out her name. "- I just read the latest report we have from Lieutenant Ieiri and his observation team. The bus arrived at 18:00 and left the Hikawa Shrine after all passengers had loaded. The Lieutenant continues to report the bus turning onto its scheduled route, but-" Shibazaki's voice dropped into a half snarl as he spoke the last word. "- Sergeant Kataoka positioned to watch the _very_ other side of the corner reports it never arriving." Lacing his hands in front of him the Superintendent shook his head before darting a sharp gaze first at the Sergeant and then at Ranma. "The official count is now 73 – seventy-three high school aged girls missing without even a trace."

"Sir..." Suzuki trailed off and instead busied herself with placing the files she had brought on the edge of Shibazaki's desk. The woman shook her head in almost a perfect imitation of her superior before she rested her clenched fist back against her knees. "Sir, how is that possible?"

"Magic." Ranma hissed out with disgust while the Superintendent only reached out and took the folder laid on his desk with a grunt.

Suzuki's hand stopped just short of grabbing Ranma by the shirt as a look of fury briefly filtered over the woman's face. "Do you think this is a joke?"

Ranma met her cold glance with one of annoyance and was on the edge of speaking when the Sergeant apparently lost interest and turned to address her superior who had so far watched the exchange quietly from behind his desk.

"Sir! Why is she even here and what – what has this been about?" Suzuki had stood upon her exclamation and was now gesturing futility with her arms in a manner that, while nowhere near clear, communicated her confusion due to the things that Ranma had done and what had been said about the martial artist with little room for doubt.

The Shibazaki Kaito let out a heavy sigh and then momentarily turned his eyes towards Ranma to give the redhead a baleful glance before turning his attention back towards Suzuki. "Saotome Ranma of the Nerima-Furinkan Semi-Autonomous zone is a formidable martial artist with a reputation of being a danger to the public even if rendered unconscious-" Ranma's pride couldn't help but puff up as she heard that – even if the Superintendent's choice of words for saying she was the best kept the usual cocksure smirk from appearing. "- and a survivor and participant of more magical events than anyone even two decades his senior."

At that announcement Suzuki sent another hate filled glare at the redhead in the seat next to her. Ranma had to choke back a snort as her mind immediately matched the expression the Sergeant was currently showcasing to her memories of Ryoga and any of the pig-boys various problems he hoisted onto the redhead.

A sharp _clap_ brought the two visitors attention swinging back towards the Superintendent as Shibazaki brought his hands together in a single decisive motion. The aging man didn't smile, but the wrinkles around the corner of his eyes crinkled upward in a show of liveliness. "Which is why as of now – in penance for his fortuitously ill thought actions from earlier – Saotome is conscripted in the name of solving our current and all further cases which go beyond the pale." Nodding curtly to first one then the other of his guests the Superintendent turned his attention once more to his files with barely a half wave in the direction of his newly minted pair of subordinates. "Dismissed!"

Ranma and Suzuki sported matching shell-shocked expressions hanging limply across their faces as the Sergeant mechanically withdrew from Shibazaki's office with Ranma drifting along in her wake.

* * *

_A longer chapter than I normally handle - I hope it hasn't suffered because of that. This was a rather difficult chapter in multiple ways (as I've already spoken to some of you privately about in PMs) due to some decisions I came to here to support the framework of things to come later.  
_

_But, also personally, I recently have had more than a happy share of familial trials. My Great Grandmother passed in her 94th year a few weeks back and while not sometimes the norm with someone that far out in age she was quite close to both myself and my siblings. There was some other stuff too, but none of it really worth talking about in good company._

_As always, thank you for reading and I hope I have entertained! Also continue to feel free to PM me - those that have can probably tell you that I'll happily talk back at length if maybe not really any amount of value!_


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